


Something To Be

by imifumei



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imifumei/pseuds/imifumei
Summary: He should never have come here. It's not as if he had the slightest clue what he expected to do here. What had he been thinking? Walking all the way over here in the dead of winter, like this? Crazy.





	Something To Be

Originally posted on LiveJournal, 26 December 2009

He should never have come here. It's not as if he had the slightest clue what he expected to do here. What had he been thinking? Walking all the way over here in the dead of winter, like this? Crazy. If it had been anyone else he'd have said as much. He couldn't really say it aloud to himself without sounding the part, though, so he kept his barrage of self-directed insults an internal monologue rather than an external one.

The week after Countdown, everything winds down. There are a few days before drama shooting starts back up, magazines don't start shooting and doing interviews for their next issues until the middle of the month, there are no concerts for a few days, everyone is coming down of the high of the new year's holiday. It's a time when the whole of the country stays in and settles down. It's a time for planning, hopes, goals, deciding who you want to be in the upcoming year. It's a time for contemplation, and really, that was the problem.

A few days to himself. A few days away from his groups. Time alone with his thoughts had been the very last thing Ryo needed. It, everything, was much easier when he was occupying himself with being something for somebody. In over a decade of constantly working to cater to the whims of whomever had paid him for his time that day, Ryo had become extremely adept at reading what was required of him, or what niche needed to be filled, and doing that thing or filling that niche. He took a lot of pleasure in being so good at fitting a group of people together that he made himself irreplaceable.

In Kanjani, he was a vital force of creativity, focus, and drive. He upped the quotient of sexiness in their group when others were busy being silly. He was silly when others were being serious. He acted the part of the middle brother in a family of seven, curbing the edge of the wackiness, motivating the lazy, making it easier to get things done. It was easy to be sunny and friendly because their interaction was so carefree. They had clicked early on and gotten so comfortable in their constant togetherness that some of them had trouble remembering how to act when they were with others. For Ryo, Kanjani was a no-brainer.

Clicking with NewS had taken a lot more time and had been a little trickier. With them, he was something different for everybody. Some of the roles he took on early, some it took him a while to figure out, but by their re-debut, he had found a way to be with everyone.

Pi, thrust unexpectedly into leadership, had needed a friend and confidante. Ryo became one. Koyama was prone to flights of fancy and boundless high-energy days. He had become a solid foundation. Shige needed a rival in order to thrive. Tegoshi needed someone who knew when to dote on him and when to push him around.

It was Massu he could never figure out, and he had done plenty of figuring. It wasn't that he over-analyzed things, that was Shige's department. He just thought about things until he could get a line on them, then he'd know how to handle things and let it go. But someone whom he just couldn't figure out, someone to whom he was nothing in particular, someone who needed him to be no one but himself, a person like that he just couldn't get out of his head.

For years his friendship with Massu was easy-going but nothing special. They weren't especially close but never anything less than perfectly warm and friendly. If asked, Ryo couldn't have said why he picked this particular time to think about it, if he had picked it at all. It seemed that anytime he wasn't actively occupying his mind with something lately, his thoughts came back to Massu.

Massu, who always seemed to enjoy spending time with him and required absolutely nothing of Ryo from the time spent together. No advice, no shoulder to lean on, no banter, no ego-stroking, just his company. It was simple, comfortable, and free, their friendship.

They could be spending some of that perfectly wonderful time together right now, if only Ryo would knock on the door. But he couldn't. He couldn't knock because he still had no idea what he wanted to happen when it opened. He didn't know why he'd come or why he'd walked all the way.

No, that wasn't true. He knew why he'd walked. It was because his thoughts were in a jumble and he didn't want to see anyone else until he'd seen Massu, not even a cabbie or a late-evening traincar straggler.

It had taken ages to get here and every successive breath of crystalline winter air only served to fuel the inexplicable desire to see Massu as quickly as possible. Now, standing outside the door, feeling the cold grey darkness seeping through his clothes and cooling his skin, slightly damp from the exertion of the walk, he couldn't suppress the shivers or the self-loathing.

If he walked away now, he'd hate himself for how pathetic he was. If he knocked on the door, he'd have to find some explanation for why he'd come. He couldn't possibly explain it to Massu when he didn't know the reason himself.

His teeth were chattering; he couldn't feel his lips.. . .or his toes, now that he thought about it. He huddled closer into his thin leather jacket, chasing the last vestige of body heat in the hope that it would spark an idea. Something, anything, to get him out of this mess.

Something to say that didn't sound like the script of a bad romantic comedy; "I needed to see you," "I can't stop thinking about you," "I just need to be near you."

His thoughts were drifting as his body began to shudder with cold. When the door suddenly swung open, he didn't even have the energy left to jump.

"Nishikido-kun!"

The flood of shimmering, heated air washed over Ryo and he blinked very slowly. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was useless. He'd still not come up with anything to say.

"God, it's freezing out here!" Massu finished doing up his coat. "How long have you been standing here?"

How long had he been standing here? A half hour? Forty-five minutes? The walk seemed to have taken hours. It may have given him the time to think but it seemed that the cold had robbed him of the ability. No, that wasn't fair. He'd long-since lost the ability to think clearly regarding Massu. In any case, the cold had sapped from him any solid concept of time. He could feel himself listing toward Massu, as though magnetically attracted and in some ways, he and Massu certainly were polar opposites. Where Massu went with the flow, Ryo directed it. When he tried to go with the flow of his thoughts, he found himself lost in front of one of the few people he desperately wanted not to be so confused around.

He sucked in air to speak but, taking in Massu's outerwear, managed only "You're going out?"

"I was watching TV. I was going to make cup noodles but I am out. I was just heading down to the conbini but since you're here, we may as well order in. Come on inside."

Massu ushered Ryo inside and Ryo stood idly while Massu took his coat. He could feel the heat radiating from Massu's fingers when they were still inches away from his skin and buffered by a t-shirt and flannel button-down.

"Oh my god, Ryo-chan, you're frozen through. Here, sit down." Massu directed him to the couch, which appeared to be fairly settled-into already from Massu's TV-watching, and wrapped a still-warm blanket around his shoulders before shuffling off to start some tea and phone the take-out noodle place down the block.

For lack of anything better to do, Ryo turned the TV on, immediately turning down the volume that seemed to blare from the garish game show still in progress. Evidently, Massu's time off was spent relaxing with mind-numbing humourous television rather than mind-numbing inner discourse on the state and nature of his friendships. Ryo envied him the ability to relax like that. He was only shivering mildly when Massu came in with some half-steeped tea.

"It needs another few minutes but you can hold the cup to start warming up."

Ryo held out his hands, still stiffly curled into balls from being in his pockets.

"Oh, wait. Give me your flannel first. My grandfather says 'a man can't get warm when he's clothed in cold.' Technically you should be naked, but just give me your flannel at least."

Ryo lacked the energy to raise a quizzical brow, but not the inclination. With effort, he unbuttoned his flannel and shed it, handing it over to Massu in exchange for steaming tea. He said nothing when Massu sat down next to him, a breath away, and pulled the blanket around them both.

Ryo's thoughts became dim and foggy as Massu wedged a shoulder in between his back and the couch and wrapped an arm around him, proving that his uncanny warmth was not limited to his personality.

He should say something. This wasn't romantic, was it? No, couldn't be. Romance didn't happen when watching a game show. What would it mean if this were romantic? Shit. Why hadn't he figured this out already? Was romance an option? Or a good idea? He wasn't even sure if he was attracted to Massu. Well, he was, he just didn't know if he was attracted sexually.

He really should say something.

In the next instant several things became very clear to Ryo. The first, and the one that sparked the next few successive realizations, was that the hollow of Massu's throat smelled exactly like hot copper and spice. The second was that he was laying half-across Massu's chest with his cheek on Massu's collarbone. Massu had one hand wrapped around both of Ryo's cradled against his chest and the other was tracing nothing patterns through the hair just above and behind Ryo's ear. It was extremely pleasant. Third, he felt comfortably room-temperature.Therefore, fourth, he must have fallen asleep.

Fuck.

He immediately scrambled backwards, wincing when Massu grunted at the hand shoved unceremoniously into his stomach. "Sorry, I- . . .I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" what? Nuzzle your neck? Cuddle up to you in my sleep? Disturb your evening only to spoon?

Massu smiled. "Don't worry about it. I get sleepy when I come in from the cold too."

"Yeah."

"Food came while you were out of it. Hungry?"

"Starved."

Massu got up to microwave the noodles and came back with hot food and cool water bottles. They ate in a silence broken only by the shrieking of a live studio audience of girls on whatever show it was they had on.

They ate, they drank, they sat. One show blended into another. They shared a chuckle at Yamapi promoting his new drama on a late night talk show and they just sat there, sunken into the couch cushions, twin lumps huddled under fleecy blankets that barricaded them from frosty drafts and wayward conversation.

"So you came over because you couldn't go three days without my sparkling conversation, eh?"

"Hah."

"Look, I wasn't going to ask, but you don't seem like you are going to say anything. . .How long were you outside?"

"I'm not pathetic." Liar.

"I didn't say-"

"I mean- um. . .I don't know what I mean. I wasn't just going to stand out there forever. I'm not a creeper."

"Practicing your impressions, then?"

It was easy to forget that Massu was witty. His humour was of a particular type. Quiet, wry, rarer than snow in July, but like snow in July, visible if you knew where to look. It was usually in the remotest places and unfailingly surprising and delightful.

Ryo could not help but smile down into his hands, worrying the blanket between clenched fists.

"Ryo-chan?"

He didn't look up. "Hm?"

Massu's voice was impossibly soft and gentle. "Why did you come?"

Ryo forced himself to look up. Massu's face was soft and open. No accusations. No harsh judgements. He just wanted an answer to a simple question, one to which Ryo, quite unfortunately did not know the answer.

"I have no idea."

"Hmm." Massu's brows drew sharply together.

"'Hmm'? What do you mean, 'hmm'?"

"It seemed like maybe you came here because you had something to say. Something you wanted to talk about?"

Ryo nodded. Massu was right, it did certainly seem that way, even to him.

Massu muted the television and turned to face Ryo, leaning in and very nearly touching Ryo's arm but instead resting his hand on the back of the couch. Ryo would have rather Massu had touched his arm. Being close to Massu was comforting. It eased the frayed mess of nerves he felt when he tried to figure out what he was feeling.

"Can I help?"

"Can you help what?"

Massu laughed lightly. His dimple appearing in the corner of his smile like a beacon of joy. "With whatever your problem is, can I help?"

Could he help? Of course he could. By just not going anywhere, just keeping on shining like that so that Ryo didn't get all turned around. That would be a huge help.

Really, Ryo just wanted to be closer. He needed to feel the glowing stillness that Massu exuded. It was special. It was a firm and unchanging serenity that shone bright with exuberant life while remaining calm. Only Massu could be so vivacious without moving a muscle.

Ryo wanted to breathe it, to drink it in. Utterly without thought, he leaned in to taste the incandescent friendship of Massu's smile.

If it was possible to feel completely embraced with only the touch of lip to lip, Ryo thought he was experiencing it now. In the fleeting moment it took to press his lips against Massu's a new awareness crystallized within him but Massu's hand softly but insistently nudging his shoulder gave him pause.

He pulled back to face him and could see the rush of strange new emotions that must be chasing each other across his face reflected in the confusion of Massu's eyes. What was he doing? What did he want from this? Oh god, what if that feeling he'd had just now was completely one-sided? How could he extract himself from the situation as delicately as possible without damaging his relationship with Massu?

"Ryo?"

"I know. I'm sorry. Hang on, let me think."

"Did you mean to kiss me just now?" Massu sounded nervous.

"Uh. . . " He met Massu's expectant gaze and could not keep himself from admitting, even to himself "Yes?"

Massu was searching his face and Ryo wondered what he'd find there. He didn't want to wait to find out. He may just have ruined something very important to him, so the best thing he could do was to leave as quickly as possible to avoid further damage.

If running out now saved him from having to explain something he didn't understand or looked like he was fleeing the scene of a crime, well that couldn't be helped.

"I should go," he said, beginning to unwrap blankets from himself, slowly at first and getting quicker with each passing second of Massu's silence.

Worry was slinking in from the sidelines of his consciousness, bringing with it the same disgust he'd felt with himself on the porch and the tension that a few hours with Massu had just handily erased.

When he rose and turned to grab his flannel shirt off the couch arm where Massu has tossed it, Massu's hand on his wrist halted him.

"I wish you wouldn't go."

In Massu's eyes, he couldn't be entirely sure but, he thought he saw the tiniest flicker of tentative interest. Then Massu tugged his arm, the flame shone a little brighter, and like a moth he was lost.

He let himself fall into Massu's welcoming arms and sank into the comforting warmth that was Massu as he plundered his mouth again and again.

There are some gifts that could not be more perfect; things that are exactly what you've always wanted but never known it until someone gave it to you. Kissing Massu was like that. It was perfect and Ryo didn't understand how he had never known it before. Massu was a gift he could drown in but he didn't want to take more than was being offered, so he tried to hold back, pull ever so slightly away. It took every ounce of will he had not to slide body-to-body in an effort to get every inch of himself as close as possible to Massu but when Massu slid a hand down his back, shoulder to hip, and rolled his body to press up against him, Ryo gave in and pressed right back.

The pile of tangled blankets between them took the edge off the heat seeping into him from being so close to Massu. He cursed them both for not moving them beforehand, but at this point it couldn't be helped; there wasn't the slightest chance that he'd consent to letting go of Massu now, even if it was to move the blankets that were separating them.

When Ryo shifted to get a hand under Massu's neck so that he could turn his head and deepen the kiss and Massu moaned throatily into his mouth, Ryo froze. He tried to pull away to look into Massu's eyes, but couldn't manage it with Massu's sudden flurry of motion. One of his hands gripped Ryo ribs tightly, holding him away from his body and with he other he was furiously trying to shove blankets out of the way.

Finally he got them below their knees and raised one leg to shove them down with his foot, then brought that leg right back up to hook around the back of Ryo's leg and haul him back down against him.

Massu was hard. Hard and rolling his hips up against him. Shocked and shuddering with the realization, Ryo could do nothing but allow himself to be taken along for the ride. Massu dove back into his mouth, sliding his tongue silkily alongside Ryo's, stealing his breath with the fervor of the kiss and stunning him into complacency enough to allow Massu to flip them both over and press Ryo down into the couch cushions.

The calm comfort that had touched Ryo, the part of Massu that had eased the tension coiled inside him and allowed him to unwind was gone, replaced by a richer, more enthusiastic part of Massu, a kind of joyous ardor that had Massu running his hands over Ryo's torso, gripping his hips, grazing his teeth over Ryo's jawline, sliding his finger's into Ryo's hair, and causing Ryo to become completely and hopelessly unraveled.

His hands were shaking; he slid them under Massu's shirt and pressed them against his back to still them. Was this really happening? What does this mean? He couldn't spend the time to figure it out now, all of his concentration was being directed to the flat planes of his own stomach as Massu's fingers crept over them, lowering to the waistband of his jeans. He gripped Ryo's belt and ground their hips together causing flashes of white to spot Ryo's vision and a low groan to escape his lips.

Massu began undoing his belt. The irregular traces of pressure on his erection, buffered by the thick denim-covered zipper of his jeans, teased Ryo to the point of embarrassing urgent whimpers and he flexing his fingers against the muscles of Massu's shoulders, not sure if he should urge him to go faster or slower.

The first featherlight touch of Massu's fingertips against him forced Ryo's hips to buck involuntarily and it became very clear to Ryo that he wouldn't last long. "Wait, Buta. Just wait," he whispered gravelly and low into Massu's ear.

Massu's trapped erection was much easier to free from his loose-fitting sweats and Ryo felt he was going to fall apart when he heard the strangled "Ryo-chan" from Massu when he gripped his arousal and first stroked him, which was all the initiative Massu was prepared to let him take.

He forced Ryo's hands away, shoved their clothing aside and gripped them both at the same time, pressing their cocks gently together and stroking slowly. Ryo shuddered with the effort of his restraint, keeping himself from thrusting up into Massu's hot, strong hand.

Then suddenly Massu's hand was gone, both of their erections pressed between two sets of hips that fit together perfectly and sliding and dragging against one another as Massu rolled forward and Ryo pushed up. They moved together in an undulating dance that no one led.

Ryo wanted to say something but all he could force from his lips was "yes yes yes" seemingly in answer to the unspoken question within himself of whether he had found whatever it was he had come here not knowing he was seeking; Massu's hands gripping his ass, Massu's chest fitted tightly against his own, Massu's sharp, metallic spiciness assaulting Ryo's senses, Massu's soft lips on the skin under his earlobe.

Ryo fisted one hand in Massu's hair and another in the back of his shirt to hold him close as the tide began to wash over him, crashing and buffeting him from all sides as he came hotly between them with a stifled cry into Massu's shoulder.

He wedged a hand between them to grip Massu and stroke until the tide broke over him as well, his face pressed, panting, into the crook of Ryo's neck. They stayed that way for a few minutes, just breathing each other in until Massu shifted and made a sound like perhaps the sticky fluid covering their stomachs was not the most pleasant thing. He lifted his head just far enough to press his forehead to Ryo's and rub their noses together.

Ryo didn't know exactly what to say and it seemed as if Massu was at a loss as well. When he finally worked it out, they both spoke together.

"I don't want to go home."

"I don't want things to change between us."

They both nodded in agreement with the other. Then Ryo plunged forward, "But won't this change things?"

Massu considered that briefly. "Can we still just be us?"

Ryo's brows drew together. "You mean go back to just being us?"

"No. This is us."

Ryo wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but he was sure what it didn't mean. It didn't mean that Massu was unhappy with whatever was going on between them and that was good enough for Ryo for now. "Okay."

"Good. . . because I don't want you to go home either."

{end}


End file.
